Can't Be Trusted
by Live2Entertain
Summary: There is a murderer targeting the McKinley High glee club. Who is it? Why are they doing this? And most importantly, who will survive? Mentions of Finchel, Quick, Artina/Mike&Tina, and Brittana FRIENDSHIP-ish.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey, so, this is my first story! Enjoy!**

Chapter One – Mercedes

Mercedes was hungry.

Ever since she rejoined the Cheerios _(After much persuasion from Kurt, she might add.) _Coach Sylvester has been on her case about her weight. Again. After the last fiasco, Mercedes decided that she was going to try a healthy diet this time, instead of starving herself and getting any more food-people hallucinations.

So here she was, sitting alone at a lunch table, with only a Caesar salad to satisfy her.

"Why don't you try this?" an airy voice said behind her. Mercedes turned to see Brittany, holding up a cup of a clear liquid. Behind Brittany was a smirking Santana.

"We told you about it before," Santana said, "It's 'Sue Sylvester's Master Cleanse'"

"Only," Brittany continued, "We made it yummy. Now, it doesn't taste like a sandy armpit anymore. Try it!" Brittany shoved the cup into Mercedes' hand, smiling broadly.

"Um, okay," Mercedes said. She sniffed the liquid warily and raised her eyebrows. "This smells sweet!" she said. She took a sip. "Dang, white girl, what did you put in this?"

Brittany glanced down at her arm. "I'm not white," she stated, "I'm pink! See?" She lifted her arm for Mercedes to see.

Yes, you are pink, Brittany," Mercedes sighed, "But seriously, what did you put in this? It's the bomb!"

"Well, first, I put in-"Brittany was cut off by a sharp nudge in the ribs by Santana.

"Don't tell her, B!" She exclaimed, "It's a surprise, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," Brittany agreed, "A surprise. Shhh, it's a secret!" She giggled. "'Kay, San. Let's go. I've gotta show you the note that that squirrel left me!" Brittany linked pinkies with Santana and quickly dragged the confused Latina away. "And remember," Brittany yelled over her shoulder, "Drink _every _drop!"

"_Squirrel?"_ Mercedes thought, "_That girl is dumber than Kurt is gay. But she makes really good diet shakes."_

Mercedes sipped the drink. It was sweet, with a tangy aftertaste that made her throat tingle. But all of a sudden, that tingle turned into a burn. Mercedes' eyes watered, and she choked, running to the bathroom. It felt as though acid was eating its way through her esophagus. She gagged furiously, attempting to make herself vomit out that evil liquid. Mercedes felt her throat contract, making it harder for her to breathe. The lack of oxygen caused her to become quite dizzy. "Help," she choked before losing consciousness and falling to the floor, the almost-empty cup rolling out of her hand.

A pair of tinkling laughs floated out of the last stall. Footsteps echoed eerily as the laughers strode across the bathroom, one of them stooping to pick up the cup.

"Aww," Brittany whined, "She didn't drink every drop! Look!" she pushed the cup in front of Santana's face.

"It's okay, B," Santana said, running her fingers through Brittany's blonde ponytail, "It still did its job. I can't believe your plan actually worked!"

**A/N: Like I said before, it's my first story. I know it wasn't the best, but I can't fix it if I don't know what's wrong. Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So yeah, sorry for the wait! I'm gonna be updating rather spastically; usually every Saturday, but if something comes up expect different. **** I wanna say thanks to everybody that favorited, but come on, one review? I know you can do better than that! : P **

**Disclaimer: I totally forgot to put one in the first chapter, so this counts for that, too. I do not own and/or write for Glee. I did, however, write a small, 5-minute Glee skit (based off of Theatricality and Bad Reputation) for my summer camp to do. It was fun! (I was Brittany!)**

**Any way, on with the story!**

Chapter 2 – Matt

Matt was bored.

He lounged on his chair in the choir room, legs and arms crossed, examining the room around him.

Rachel was standing in the middle of the room, ranting on about performance tips and vocal warm-ups or something like that. Finn was staring lovingly at her, as always. _(It's a miracle those two are still dating, and even more of a miracle that Finn's eardrums aren't blown out by now. That girl can screech!)_

Puck was staring at Quinn, and Quinn, who was back on the Cheerios, was pretending not to notice Puck.

Tina was sitting on Artie's lap, massaging his hands, while Mike glanced at Tina longingly every so often.

Brittany and Santana were sitting next to each other, pinkies linked, chattering away as usual.

Only one thing was missing: Mercedes. Kurt sat alone, rubbing his arms nervously and glancing at the door as if Mercedes was going to walk in at any second. She had disappeared around lunchtime, and nobody could get a hold of her. Matt could tell Kurt was worried. He kind of looked like a wounded puppy.

The next thing he knew, Glee was over. Matt confirmed video-game plans with Mike then walked outside.

"Wait!" he heard. He turned to see Brittany bouncing toward him, her ponytail swishing frantically.

"Matt!" she exclaimed, "My mommy's making me get my license, and I was wondering if you could help me, like just a little bit before we go home? There's an empty parking lot we can practice in."

"Sure," Matt said.

"Yay!" Brittany jumped up and down, clapping her hands together, a gleaming look in her eyes. "We'll use your car; let's go!"

She grabbed Matt's wrist and dragged him along.

"Uh, Brittany?"

"Yes?"

"My car's that way."

"Now what does the 'D' stand for, Brittany?"

"Um, ducks? I have a duck named Ballad. Sometimes, he quacks."

Matt sighed. He was _too_ nice to people. "No, the 'D' stands for drive."

"Oh, like the way you drive a car? I get it!" Brittany exclaimed, "So I put the stick on 'D' and then I step on this pedal…"

The car jerked forward, making a loud 'pop'. Smoke seeped from under the hood.

"Oops," Brittany said, "Did I break it?"

"No, Brittany," Matt said, exasperated, "I'm sure you didn't break it. I'll just go check it out to make sure it's nothing serious. Just, sit here and _don't touch anything._"

"But, how do I sit if I can't touch anything?" Brittany asked, gesturing at the car seat beneath her red-and-white Cheerios skirt.

"You can touch the seat, Brittany." Mat answered, slamming the car door and pacing to the front. He opened the hood. A puff of smoke exploded into his face, He coughed, waving it away and leaning closer to take a look.

"Nothing looks too wrong here," Matt stated, poking at a few wires. He closed the lid. "Test the engine to see if it works."

The next thing he knew, the car lurched forward, and there was a horrible crunching sound. Matt, crushed underneath his own car, moaned in agony and coughed weakly, blood rising up in his throat. His eyes rolled back and he lay still, as Brittany exited the car.

"It worked!" She giggled, "Two down!"

**A/N: Review please! Luv you!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Wooohooo! Two more reviews! We're making progress people!**

**Disclaimer: Me no own Glee.**

Chapter 3 – Mike

Mike was upset.

He and Matt had made a plan that at 7:00 that night they would play video games together, but Matt was nowhere to be found.

Mike called Matt's cell dozens of times, _(and left dozens of angry messages)_, and he had gotten no response. So, what did Mike do when he was upset? He danced.

That is why it is 8 p.m. on a Thursday, and here he was, in his home dance studio, practicing his technique. Sweat dripped from his brow. He switched off the music and turned to drink from his water bottle.

"Other Asian!" he heard.

Spitting out his water, he spun around in surprise, only to see Brittany standing by the doorway, her face a perfect mask of innocence.

"Sorry, did I scare you? I just came here to ask you to help me with one of our dances. Your mom let me in. Do you want me to leave?" She blinked her big chocolate brown eyes at Mike.

"No, it's okay! Don't go!" Mike said, "You can stay, I don't mind, I'll help you."

"Wee!" Brittany exclaimed, dropping her bag to the floor, "But first, I have something to show you!"

Mike waited patiently as Brittany rummaged through her bag, expecting her to pull out a stuffed bunny or something, but instead she unearthed something completely different: A gun.

Mike's hands flew up as Brittany pointed the barrel in his face, a crazed smile taking over her face.

"Brittany," Mike said, "Brittany, don't do this! You don't know what you're doing!"

"Oh, I know," Brittany replied nonchalantly, "I was going to shoot you, but then I thought, 'That's no fun. It's also not as painful as this'"

Brittany fired the gun at the mirror behind Mike. The bullet ricochets off the glass, grazing his shoulder. Mike cried out in pain, clutching his shoulder as he fell to the ground.

Brittany fired again, at the crack the first bullet left. The mirror shattered. Millions of lethal shards rained down on Mike's injured body. Screams echoed around the room as the sharp mirror fragments impaled him, until one large spike pierced right through his heart.

Mike was still.

Brittany smiled, picking her bag up off the floor. She giggled happily. "Three down."

**A/N: Review! P.S. Am I the only one seriously depressed that Matt isn't going to be in season 2? **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: So this is probably my last update until next Saturday. It's kinda long-ish, so it might make up for it. **** Also, I would like to give a shout out to "The Thrush That Can't Fly" and "Immortal Lilies", for reviewing. I would shout-out to the others who reviewed, but I don't know who you are….**

**Disclaimer: I own a Glee shirt. And the Glee People magazine issue (I noticed a mistake they made in it; I felt so smart!)**

Chapter 4 – Finn

_The Next Day_

Finn was content.

He had an awesome girlfriend, _(Well, he thought so)_; He and Puck had made up after the whole Baby-Gate Crisis, and he had the most awesome almost-step-brother ever, _(Despite the fact that Kurt was constantly trying to moisturize Finn's face in his sleep)_.

Not to mention that he was the star of the basketball team, even though it was probably because of his freakishly tall Frankenteen-ness.

So, here he was, after basketball practice, showering in the boy's locker room before he went home.

"_And I can't fight this feeling anymore,"_ he sang, lathering his hair with that strawberry-kiwi scented shampoo Kurt had gotten him for his birthday. It might be totally fruity _(no pun intended)_ but Rachel loved it. And what Rachel loved, he loved.

He hummed to himself, eyes closed, when he heard a voice.

"That's a pretty song. 'Don't Stop Believin'', right?"

Finn's eyes snapped open with a start, to reveal Brittany leaning against the lockers.

"No," Finn said awkwardly, "It's 'I Can't Fight This Feeling'. And if you don't mind me asking, Brittany, why are you here? In the boy's locker room, I mean."

Brittany shrugged, "I thought this was the girl's room."

"But, the picture on the door isn't in a dress. That means 'Boy'." Finn tried to explain.

"Some girls wear pants." Brittany stated.

Finn sighed. _"And people say I'm an idiot."_ He thought.

"Not to be rude, but do you mind leaving? I'm kinda….naked…and I'm getting really uncomfortable with you in here."

"Sorry, Finny," Brittany said, "I'll leave. See you at Glee tomorrow!"

"Brittany, there's no Glee tomorrow. It's Saturday."

"Oh. Is that why nobody ever shows up? Okay….Bye then!"

Brittany skipped to the door, turning to shine a 100-watt smile at Finn before pushing her way outside.

Shampoo ran into Finn's eye. He rubbed at it, moving underneath the shower head. He blinked furiously, cursing the stupid strawberry-kiwi liquid, when he suddenly felt the water grow warmer.

"_That's weird,"_ he thought, groping blindly for the shower handles. He twisted the one on the right, shutting it off completely. Than he turned the other handle to the opposite side, in an attempt to turn up the cold, but the water only grew hotter. He peeled open his eyes, making sure he turned the right knobs. He twisted the 'Cold' knob farther, but the temperature continued to rise.

His body began to burn. He glanced down, noting the redness of his skin. He hissed as the water steadily increased to boiling heat, and he turned grabbing for the handle on the shower door. He yanked at it, but it refused to open. Condemning the idiot who thought putting shower locks on the outside was a good idea, he pounded on the walls, screaming for help as the searing water flowed onto his skin.

He fell to the ground, curling into fetal position as the water became unbearably hot. The breath was sucked out of his lungs and was replaced by the steam trapped in the tiny shower cell. Finn choked, wincing at the excruciating pain.

He weakly thumped at the door once more before his hand dropped to the ground. He lay there, unmoving, until his breath hitched in his throat and refused to continue.

The water shut off. Santana trotted over to the steam-filled shower. She unlocked the door, knelt down, and checked Finn's pulse. When she felt nothing, she stood and hollered for Brittany.

"I thought you said you were going to use cold water! All this steam is going to frizz out my hair!" She said, fingering her tight Cheerios ponytail.

"Sorry, San," Brittany answered, wandering back inside the locker room, "I thought the 'H' stood for 'Cold'. But it still worked, right?"

"Yeah, B. It worked."

Brittany giggled. "Four down."

**A/N: Review! Also, if you have any story suggestions for me, please PM me! I would love to attempt any ideas you can come up with!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sooo, who **_**loved**_** the premiere? Who can't wait for the next episode? ****Personally, I thought the episode didn't have enough Kurt, but oh, well. It'll come. Mkei, so yeah, I might have another chapter tomorrow, but most likely not. Also, I **_**need a way for Kurt to die. **_**I have everybody planned out but him, and in order for the story to continue, he needs to die. Please, if you have a suggestion, PM me. **_**(Don't leave it as a comment, because if I use it I want it to be a surprise to everybody else)**_** Thank you!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Glee, I wouldn't be **_**waiting**_** for Britney/Brittany, would I?**

**Chapter 5 – Artie**

Artie was torn.

He loved Tina, he really did, with all of his heart, mind, and soul, _(Corny)_; He was just too chicken to tell her.

Not only that, but he was so sure that Mike _(Who hadn't shown up to school today, oddly enough)_ felt the exact same way about her.

Artie was determined to tell her first. He rolled into living room, thankful the house was completely empty. _(He didn't want anybody *coughhisparentscough* eavesdropping on this conversation.) _

He picked up his cell off the center table and dialed Tina's number. Growing more and more nervous with each ring, he concentrated on the sounds of heavy rain and thunder outside.

"_Hey, you've reached Tina Cohen-Chang, Official Asian Vampire! I guess you've missed-"_

"Ugh," Artie sighed, hanging up. He couldn't proclaim his love over the phone; what was he thinking? It needed to be special, to be romantic, to be-

"Hi, Artie."

Artie jumped, knocking out the brake on his chair and rolling into the couch. Thunder boomed outside, and Artie craned his neck to see a dripping, wet Brittany standing in the doorway.

"Brittany? How'd you get in my house?"

"The window."

"None of our windows open. They're fiberglass."

"Not the tall one in the front of the house."

"That was a door, Brittany. A glass door."

Brittany gave a look of understanding.

"Anyway, why are you here?" Artie inquired.

"I was going home, and I got lost, so I came here instead. Plus the rain got me and my bag wet!" She replied, emphasizing her statement by holding up her sopping backpack, "Can I say here until the sky stops crying?"

"Sure, Brittany," Artie said.

"Yay! Come on!" Brittany ran to Artie and lifted him out of his chair, proceeding to carry him to a clear spot on the floor.

"How are you so strong?" Artie questioned as Brittany laid him on his back on the carpet.

"I'm a Cheerio;" Brittany replied matter-of-factly, "Coach Sylvester makes us bench press football players to stay in shape."

Artie struggled to sit up. "Wow. Well then, could you please put me back in my chair? It feels kind of-"

"No, no!" Brittany cut him off, pushing his shoulders down, "I have a game we're gonna play. It's kinda like Twenty Questions, but, with one question. I call it, 'One Question'."

"Why can't I be in my chair?"

"You'll see when you hear the question!" Brittany said as she rummaged through her bag. She shifted so Artie couldn't see what she drew out of it, and she held the mystery item behind her back. She moved slowly over to Artie's side, making sure he still couldn't see what she was holding.

"So, Artie," Brittany drawled, "The question is something you've heard before, but never answered. Can you feel your feet?"

Artie had a flashback of hammer pants and libraries.

"Um, no, I guess not." He replied, growing more and more uncomfortable. Brittany's smile was getting less sweet and more predatory with every passing second.

"I wanna test it!" Brittany squealed, uncovering what she had behind her back: A machete.

The thick, sharp blade glinted evilly in the light of the setting sun.

"You shouldn't feel a thing," Brittany said, chuckling at her own joke.

Artie's mouth dropped open in surprise as he watched the machete sail through the air and slice through his legs, right above his knees. He gasped as he felt the blood drain from his body and soak into the carpet beneath him.

"Well," Brittany asked, "Did you feel it?"

Blood gurgled up into Artie's throat. His eyes widened and he stopped moving.

"Hmm," Brittany muttered, closing Artie's blank, staring eyes, "I guess that was a 'no'."

She giggled. "Five down!"

**A/N: Review! And remember, **_**all**__**suggestions**__**are**__**needed**_** in order for this story to continue!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Here's the next chapter! ****Also, I have two things to say: 1.) I now need a way for Mr. Schue to die. (**_**I figured out what I'm going to do with Kurt)**_** If you have any ideas, PM me, please. And 2.) If you have any story ideas for me, PM me! I'll write pretty much anything (**_**but not smut)**_**. Okay, so, this chapter starts a little slow, I think, but please enjoy anyway!**

**Disclaimer: Not making any money, so, I don't own anything.**

Chapter 6 – Tina

Tina was upset.

Her parents had decided to take her out to a surprise dinner, just because, and she came home to a missed call from Artie. She tried calling back multiple times, but he never answered. And Artie _always_ answered her calls.

So here Tina sat, looking out the window into the stormy night (_The sun had set about an hour ago)_, listening for Artie's signature "Who dis be?" to come from her cell phone's speaker. But it never did.

"_I hope he isn't mad that I was talking to Mike today. I mean, Mike might be really cute and, like, Asian, but I don't _like _him like him." _She thought.

Tina sighed. She drummed her fingers on the table and pushed her chair backwards. She walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a strawberry-flavored soda, pouring some out into a cup. Sitting back down, she tried calling Artie again. Nothing. She slowly swirled her straw around in the bubbly, pinkish-red liquid.

"Is it organic?"

Tina's hand jerked up, yanking the straw out of the cup and sloshing soda onto the table. She turned and saw Brittany outside of the window, soaked by the rain that was just starting to let up.

"Brittany?" Tina asked.

"That's my name. Although it might be Britney. I always get the two confused."

"You're all wet!" Tina said, disregarding Brittany's last statement, "Come inside!"

"'Kay!" Brittany replied. She pried the window and climbed in, a damp, heavy looking bag slung over her shoulder.

"So, Brittany, what are you doing here? No, wait, sorry; I'll get you a towel first. Just, stay here."

Tina jogged to the linen closet in the hallway. Swinging open the door, she pulled out two towels (_Just in case)_. She walked back into the kitchen to find Brittany staring intently at her soda, which she had set on the table.

"Here you go!" Tina said cheerfully, breaking Brittany out of her trance. Tina handed Brittany a towel.

"I can't use this!" Brittany gasped, "The bunnies will get wet!" She gingerly held the bright pink, bunny-patterned towel in front of her.

"_And that's what I brought the extra towel for." _Tina thought. She took the towel from Brittany's hand and gave her the plain, blue one she had been holding.

Brittany smiled and began to dry herself off.

"So, is it organic? You never answered me."

Tina tilted her head quizzically. "Is what organic?"

"The blood." Brittany replied, her voice muffled by the towel.

"The…the _what?_" Tina stammered.

"The blood. In that cup." Brittany said, gesturing toward Tina's cup, "Did someone donate it or is it, like, fresh? Do you know whose it is?" Brittany blinked innocently, waiting for a response.

Flustered, Tina frowned and picked up the cup from the table. "This is _soda._" She said, "Strawberry soda. Why… why would you think it's blood?"

"Because, Tee, you're a vampire. _Duh."_

"No, I'm not."

"Yeah, you are! You told Principal Figgins so a few weeks ago!"

Tina chuckled, relieved. "That was a _lie,_ Brittany. Just to get my Goth clothes back, remember?"

"No, it wasn't." Brittany persisted, walking slowly towards Tina, "It was the truth." Brittany's hand eased into her bag as she watched the small Asian carefully.

Tina raised her hands into the air. "Brittany, I really _don't _know what you're talking about. I really think-"

Tina's sentence was cut off as Brittany suddenly launched herself at her. With an unearthly growl, Brittany pinned Tina to the ground.

"Brittany!" Tina exclaimed, "What are you-"

Tina cried out in pain. She shuddered, abandoning her efforts to struggle. She drew in a tortured, agonizing breath as she felt her blood seep from her body. Blood gurgled into her throat and her head fell backwards onto the floor.

Feeling Tina go limp underneath her, Brittany climbed off of her. Smiling faintly, she yanked out the wooden stake that was protruding form Tina's chest.

"The vampire is dead," Brittany sang, "Six down."

**A/N: Review! And remember, any suggestions, PM me!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I've gotten NO responses for my 'How-To-Kill-Mr.-Schue' request, and if I repeat, NO RESPONSE MEANS NO MORE STORY! (**_**Writers block is evil)**_** Anyway, enjoy this next chapter (**_**It's really long :S) **_** and thank you to everybody who read/reviewed this story and my other ones.**

**Warning: Major abuse of italics, because well, it's **_**Rachel.**_** Also, I know nothing about anatomy, or anything about the human neck, really, so if any facts are incorrect, I'm sorry. Also, this chapter gets kinda graphic, so, beware!**

Chapter 7 – Rachel

Rachel was determined.

Mr. Schuester had had the _audacity_ to give _Kurt Hummel,_ of _all people, _a _solo._ Don't get her wrong; Rachel Berry is _all about _equal opportunities and sharing spotlights and all that; she just hates that he gave him _her solo._

The song was 'I Speak Six Languages' from 'The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee'. It was sung by Marcy Park, an over-achieving Chinese girl. Everybody knows China and Rachel's native Jewish homeland of Israel both lie on the continent of Asia, giving Rachel a _deep, emotional connection_ to the song.

But of course, Mr. Schuester has to remain _completely oblivious _to that fact and just _siphon off_ the solo, like it meant _nothing_, to _the gay kid. (Not that she has anything against gays; being the daughter of two gay dads makes her extremely open-minded and accepting.)_

Rachel remembers Mr. Schue saying something about 'giving others a chance' and 'everybody is equally talented' while she was storming out the choir room, but what was he thinking? They were obviously _not_ as talented as her. Let's face it; _she _is really the only one with a chance of making it out of that stupid cow-town.

Well, she'll show them. She'll show them _all._

She is going to give an impromptu concert of the song on Monday, then _demand_ that Mr. Schue chooses who sings it better. It may seem harsh, but if she doesn't fight for what she wants, who will?

"_I speak six languages! Every language easy, easy as the recipe for making Jell-O," _Rachel sang, smoothing out the legs of her pink, silk pajamas as she stood in front of her bedroom mirror, "_I speak six languages! And I can say hello, in at least, seven more!"_

Rachel sighed happily. That solo was as good as hers. Popping the karaoke out of the CD player, Rachel decided she was going to make some of her special lemon-honey tea to sooth her voice before going to bed. She trotted down the hallway, _(Careful not to wake her dads; they _did _enforce a strict, 2:30 p.m. bedtime and it _was_ almost 9!), _and made her way to the kitchen's entrance. She flicked on the light, and then yelped in shock as she saw what – or should she say, _who_ – was waiting for her: Brittany.

The ditzy Cheerio lounged on a chair, calmly sipping what looked like the very lemon-honey tea Rachel had just come to make.

"Hi, Rachel."

"Um, Brittany? What are you doing here? And how did you get in? Did you break in? Because if you did, that means our burglar alarm is faulty! I have to warn my dads just in case-"

"Kurt's dad told us o use a burglar alarm when we were making out that one time." Brittany said, cutting off Rachel's ramble, "And you let me in your house. Remember?"

"Actually, no, I don't remember, Brittany. But I suppose that's not important. Now, why are you here and why are you drinking my tea?"

"The tea helps your voice, right. I've always loved your voice. I _want _your voice." Brittany stared intensely at Rachel in a way that made the petite brunette uncomfortable.

"That's very flattering, Brittany," Rachel replied hesitantly, "I've had years of vocal and performance training, so if you want, I could give you voice lessons to - "

"I don't want voice lessons." Brittany interrupted, her eyes never leaving Rachel's, "I want _your voice._ Will you give it to me?"

Brittany stood up from her chair. She stepped toward the tiny Jew with slow, deliberate steps that made Rachel's skin crawl.

"Brittany, I'm sorry I can't just _give _you my voice. I'm sure you have a really good -"

"Shut up, Rachel!" Brittany exclaimed, "You talk way too much! But I'll fix that for you."

"What… What do you mean you'll fix -"

"Berry!" Brittany shouted, "What did I _just say_?"

Rachel began to walk backwards, raising her hands in a 'surrender' manner.

"Brittany, what is going on with you? Are you -"

With an almost unnatural speed, Brittany rushed to Rachel, grabbing her by the throat and shoving her into the wall.

"_I told you to shut up!_" The blonde hissed.

Rachel's eyes widened impossibly as she reached up to claw at the Cheerio's manicured hand.

Brittany laughed dryly. "Aww, look at you, trying to escape. Like you actually have a chance! Now, I've decided something. Do you want to know what it is?"

Brittany moved her hand up and down, forcing Rachel to nod her head.

"Okay, I'll tell you. I've decided: If I can't have your voice; _neither can you._"

Brittany heard Rachel gasp as she reached behind her back and pulled out a pocketknife. She flicked the blade up and waved it tauntingly, chuckling at Rachel's terrified expression.

"Don't worry, my little Gold Star," Brittany teased, "I'll sing to you. That'll make everything better."

"Brittany, please!" Rachel whispered, "What did I do? I don't -"

"Shhhh…" Brittany shushed.

Rachel stopped her pleading when Brittany placed the tip of the blade on her neck, just below her chin.

"_So long! Farewell! __Auf Weidersehen__, good-die!" _Brittany sang as she slowly, carefully dragged the knife down, cutting a deep slit down Rachel's neck, exposing her esophagus. Feeling Rachel go limp beneath her hand, she let her body slide down the wall and onto the floor.

Brittany knelt over the body, studying the gash in the neck. The Cheerio grabbed Rachel's hair, tilting her head back as she carefully wedged the knife in the cut. She wiggled the blade carefully until she heard the tell-tale '_snap'_ of Rachel's vocal cords breaking apart from each other.

"Wow," Brittany muttered, "You're finally quiet." She giggled. "Seven down."

**A/N: That was so anatomically incorrect, I can't even believe it. But please review anyway! And remember, **_**Mr. Schue must die!**_** All suggestions are welcome, even if you think it's the stupidest idea ever, just please, run it by me! Thank you!**

**Also, songs in this chapter include "So Long, Farewell' from 'The Sound of Music' and 'I Speak Six Languages' from 'The 25****th**** Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee.'**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: So sorry it's a late update! My weekend was pretty stupid, and I had like, no time. :S But anyway, here it is! BTW, I would like to thank everybody who suggested ideas on how to kill Mr. Schue, and I will send a private message to the person whose ideas I shall use, as I want to keep it a partial surprise for everyone else. (**_**Dang, that was a long sentence!)**_** Okay, so, here's the chapter! Oh, and also, this chapter isn't a murder; it's a news story, so please bear with me on this one.**

Chapter 8

"This just in on WLMN News at 7. Over the weekend a total of seven gruesome murders have occurred.

The bodies of all the victims were found scattered throughout the city of Lima. Autopsies show that each person was murdered in a different, most violent, manner.

The victim list reads as followed:

Mercedes Jones,

Matt Rutherford, and

Mike Chang on Thursday, September 23rd, and

Finn Hudson,

Artie Abrams,

Tina Cohen-Chang (_Of no relation to Mike Chang)_, and

Rachel Berry on Friday, September 24th.

All of the young victims attended McKinley High School, and all were participants in the schools glee club 'New Directions'.

While there have been no murders for two days so far, all of the remaining members, Noah Puckerman, Quinn Fabrey, Santana Lopez, Kurt Hummel, and Brittany Pierce, were advised to stay cautious and postpone all Glee rehearsals until the serial killer now known as the 'Gleeful Murderer' is located and incarcerated.

We were only able to get an interview with one of the students, a Cheerio named Brittany Pierce."

* * *

"_I just… I don't get it," _Brittany sobs, wiping away tears off and streaking her makeup across her face, _"Why would anybody do bad stuff like that? To my friends? It's mean!"_

Brittany turned her face to the camera, staring into it with pleading eyes, running her fingers through her knotted, messy Cheerios ponytail. _"Bad Person? I don't know what 'located and incarcerated' means, but could you please let the police find you so they can arrest you? Please? I miss my friends."_

Brittany brought her hands up to her face, her face scrunching into uncontrollable sadness.

* * *

"Heart-wrenching, isn't it? A poor, innocent teenager, torn away from her friends as seven poor, innocent teenagers are torn away from their lives. If you have any information on who committed this _horrendous_ crime, please contact us at WMH-GLEE, or 964-4533. All tips are appreciated."

**A/N: Sorry it's so short/uneventful/poorly-written. I had a lot of homework this week, so it's kind of a filler chapter. But another murder next time, I swear! Review, please!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: SOOO EXCITED FOR ROCKY HORROR! Just thought I should mention that.**

Chapter 9 – Quinn

Quinn was numb.

Not physically, but mentally, emotionally.

She had just gotten her life back together. Ms. Corcoran had Beth; she was back on the Cheerio's – back as _head_ Cheerio; she actually had _friends_; and now this happens.

Practically half of those _friends _have been killed – _murdered_ – by some crazy psycho, and to top it all off, the stupid news channel practically told her _"Be careful; you're next."_

Nobody even treated her the same at school anymore.

Everybody just shuffled along in the hallways, their conversations a mild buzz as they discussed the 'situation'. "Who could it be?" "Who is next?" "Why, why, _why?_" "Why Tina?" "Why Matt?" "Why Finn?" "Why _Glee?_"

Quinn couldn't take it anymore. If anybody looks at her with those… those _sorrowful, sympathetic _eyes again, or pats her on the shoulder with those _sorrowful, sympathetic_ hands, she swears she is going to go off the deep end.

She was so lucky she still had Cheerios.

Even though Cheerios practice was already over, Quinn still had some steam to let off. Tightening her ponytail, she sprinted around the track, making four straight laps before stopping to sip from her water bottle and catch her breath.

"Quinnie!"

Quinn looked toward the sound.

"Brittany?" she said, "What are you doing here? I thought everybody went home."

"I did, I went home, but then, I remembered something." Brittany said, running up to where Quinn was standing. Her eyes, red and tear-filled, looked sadly at Quinn.

"What, Brittany? What did you remember? Does it have something to do with - " Quinn lowered her voice, " – With the '_Gleeful Murderer'_?"

Brittany lowered her voice to match the volume of Quinn's. "_Yes," _she whispered.

Quinn's eyes widened in fear. "What is it? Do you know who it is? You have to tell -"

"No, Quinnie, it's my bear!"

"What?"

"My favorite teddy bear! I brought her to school to protect me from The Bad Person! Her name's Kurtsie. I named her after Puck."

Quinn frowned. Well, at least Brittany's logic made sense to Brittany.

"I left Kurtsie here, so I came back," Brittany continued, "Will you please get her for me? Please?"

Quinn studied Brittany for a moment, and then nodded slowly.

"Okay, Brittany. Where is… _Kurtsie_?"

Brittany pointed to the right. Following the taller blonde's finger, Quinn tilted her head back to see a small bear perched on a branch just off the very top of the bleachers.

"How did it -"

"_She,"_ Brittany interrupted.

"- How did _she _get up there?"

Brittany shrugged. "I dunno. But could you please get her down? I think she might be scared."

Quinn sighed, and then turned toward the bleachers. She bounded up the steps, taking them two at a time. Once she reached the top, she grabbed the railing, balancing herself as she reached slowly toward the dangling bear.

"Careful!" She heard. She glanced down at Brittany to respond, when suddenly, she felt to hands shove her, hard, in the back. She lost her balance, tipping over the railing. Quinn cried out in terror as she fell a good fifty feet to the ground below, hitting it with a loud crunch.

Quinn moaned in agony as she lay on the ground. Her left arm and both of her legs were twisted painfully, in ways she knew should not be humanely possible.

"Brittany," she whispered.

The taller blonde walked over to Quinn. "You're still alive?" She asked, looking genuinely confused.

"Brittany, please," Quinn choked, "Please call 9-1-1. _Please_. It… It _hurts._"

"San!" Brittany called, ignoring Quinn's pleas, "She's still alive! What do I do?"

Santana appeared next to Brittany. "Hmm, I guess I didn't push her hard enough. But don't worry, I know what to do."

As Santana grinned evilly, realization suddenly dawned on the broken blonde.

Feebly raising her right arm, she pointed at Brittany, then at Santana, then back to Brittany.

"You… you both…" she stammered, "'_Gleeful Murderers!'"_

"Wow, Quinnie!" Santana smirked, "You're smarter than I thought you were! Too bad you won't be able to tell anybody about your little 'Discovery'. Good night, Quinn."

Santana raised her foot, bringing it down on Quinn's throat. She stomped down until she heard the delicious 'crack' that a neck makes as it breaks.

Santana turned to Brittany. "See? I told you I could handle this one." She said. "Oh, and here."

The Latina handed Brittany a small, brown teddy bear - the teddy bear that had evidently been Quinn Fabray's demise.

"Yay!" Brittany squealed, hugging the bear to her chest, "Eight down!"

**A/N: Review!**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 – Puck

Puck was _ticked._

All because of that stupid murderer, there was no Glee club anymore. And he was actually starting to _like_ that stupid club.

Don't get him wrong, though. He's totally depressed and shiz about all the murders _(Everything's been a lot quieter without that Berry chick running her mouth)_, but, dude, Puck is a stud. He can't let people see him cry. It shows weakness, and don't murderers target the weak? _(They do in the movies.)_

That is why Puck is here, in the gym, punching and kicking the stuffing out of a punching bag. There was no way in _heck _that that 'Gleeful Murderer' could get to him if his guns were in top shape.

Even though he was getting pretty sore, Puck still continued to whack the bag with everything he had, drowning out all sounds except for the steady thud of his punches until he heard a buzz.

He looked down at his phone, checking the new message he had received…

…from… _Quinn_?

* * *

From: Quinn

Noah? Srry ive been avoiding u. Meet me in 5 so we can talk :)

Man, Sep 27 5:43 PM

* * *

"_Heck yes!"_ Puck thought. He quickly typed a response.

* * *

From: Puck

Sure, babe. Where do u wanna meet? (Dosnt matter, tho. Id meet u nywhere ;).)

Mon, Sep 27 5:44 PM

* * *

From: Quinn

In frnt of the school. By the dumpster, u no, the 1 the nerds r thrown in2?

Mon, Sep 27 5:44 PM

* * *

From: Puck

K, babe. CU in 5

Mon, Sep 27, 5:45 PM

* * *

Puck jogged up to the dumpster.

"Quinn?" he called, scanning the lot for the pretty blonde.

"Quinn!" he said louder. He started to walk away from the dumpster, craning his neck to see where she might be hiding, when suddenly he felt a cloth sack being pulled over his head.

He cursed, thrashing around as his arms were grabbed and twisted painfully behind his back.

"Seriously, _Puckzilla_?" He heard as he felt two pairs of hands lift him into the air, "You can't fight off two girls? That's sad."

Puck stopped struggling when he recognized the voice.

"San… Santana?" he whispered.

Girlish giggles erupted from behind him as the hands let go of him. He cried out as he hit metal, and then heard his cry echo as he heard the sharp clang of the lid of a dumpster being shut.

Puck sat up, pulling the cloth off his head. Letting out a string of explicit words, he crawled around the metal box, pounding on the lid and sides, trying to find a way to escape.

"Santana!" he yelled.

A small hole appeared in the side of the dumpster, letting in a stream of light.

"Yes?"

"Santana, what -"

"Just shut up, Puck," Santana said, "It'll all make sense in a few minutes. Now, are you, by any chance, _thirsty_?"

"What? N-no…" Puck stuttered, confused by the out-of-place question.

"Yes, you are!" Santana sang, "And I'll fix that for you!"

The eye moved away, soon to be replaced by a hose. Puck heard a mild buzzing sound coming from outside. Disregarding it, he crawled to the opposite side of the dumpster, punching at the wall with all his might.

"Come on, Santana! This isn't funny! Let me out of here!"

He pushed up against the top of the metal box he was in, trying in vain to open the seemingly weighed-down lid until he felt something touch his foot. Reaching down, he blindly swept his hand around until he hit something wet and cold. Bringing his fingers up to his mouth, he tentatively licked off…

Grape slushie?

Feeling around, he noticed that almost the entire floor was covered in the frozen drink.

"_That's what that buzzing is!"_ he thought, _"The slushie machine! Well, somebody's gotta find me soon."_

* * *

Nobody found him.

It was half-an-hour later. _(He thinks?)_ The slushie was about up to his shoulders, and Puck was freezing. He was finding it harder and harder to concentrate _(Why did he go there in the first place? He was going to meet someone? Finn, was it?), _and he couldn't even lift his hand to hit he sides of the dumpster anymore.

"Help," he slurred, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth, "Lemme… lemme outta here…"

Puck could feel his heart start to hesitate between beats, and he was starting to become sleepy.

"Santana?" He called one last time before letting he closed his eyes and slid deeper into the slushie, "Quinn…"

* * *

The lid of the dumpster opened.

"Pucky?" Brittany called, studying the blue-tinged face of the boy submerged up to his neck in grape slushie.

"Oh. I think he went to meet Quinnie," the blonde said to the small stuffed bear she was holding. She dipped a finger in the icy, purple beverage, bringing it up to her lips.

"Mmmm," she said, "That's really good. Do you know what else is really good? The fact that we are nine down."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Okay, so, I'm, like, really sorry that I haven't updated sooner. I've had a lot of stuff to do, so I've had, like, no time to write. That's kind of the reason why this chapter is so short, too. I have finals coming up, so this is like a filler chapter. But I promise the next few chapters will be much more exciting. You guys are gonna find out why Brittany's been doing what she's doing! :D And then it's gonna end **** Thank you to everybody who's reviewed/favorited and all that, and now I shall end this ridiculously long Author's Note and start the ridiculously short chapter **

Chapter 11 – Mr. Schue

"Breaking News on WLMN News at 7.

The Gleeful Murderer has struck again.

In addition to the deaths of Glee Club members Noah Puckerman and Quinn Fabrey on Monday, September 27th, the body of William Schuester, the Glee Club's director, was discovered by his ex-wife Terri Schuester earlier today.

Schuester, or 'Mr. Schue' to his students, was found in the late morning, drowned in what appears to be copious amounts of hair gel in his bathtub.

How said hair gel was brought into the home is currently unknown to authorities.

We were able to get an interview with Schuester's ex-wife.

"_I just don't understand." _Terri said, running her hand through her disheveled hair, _"I… I went to go talk to him in his office, but he wasn't there, and… and I… He's usually never late for work; I thought…I knew something was wrong, and I, I checked his house and he was there and he was - "_

Terri broke down in tears, wailing hysterically as the view panned back to the reporter.

"If you have any information on the identity of the Gleeful Murderer, please contact the police at WMH-GLEE, or 964-4533. All tips are anonymous, and all are appreciated."


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Woohoo! Finally, some action! Please review!**

**Chapter 12 – Santana**

Santana was on a high.

She and Brittany were the Gleeful Murderers,

And

They

Were

_Unstoppable._

They had offed almost the entire Glee club, and nobody suspected a thing.

Nobody!

Jacob Ben-Israel was brought in by the police for questioning, as was Dave Karofsky, even Coach Sylvester.

But nobody suspected the two poor, innocent Cheerios that lost their poor, innocent singing buddies.

"So, looks like Lady Fabulous is next," Santana said as she and Brittany sat on the floor of her room, "How should he go?"

"We have to kill him, S?" Brittany asked, her brown eyes wide.

"Um, yeah, B," Santana answered, "Remember? Your plan was 'Kill everybody dead except for two." She pointed to Brittany, "One," then at herself "Two."

Brittany chuckled, then propped herself up on her hand and knees and began to crawl slowly towards Santana.

"I said two lived?" Brittany said, "Did I say you were one of the two?"

"Well, no, but…" Santana's eyes widened as Brittany reached behind her back and pulled out a knife.

Jumping to her feet, Santana shrieked in terror as she dashed out of her room, Brittany at her heels. She ran down the stairs, taking them two at a time and grabbing her home phone off the receiver. She dialed 911, but realized the phone wasn't working.

"I cut the cord when I came in." Santana heard. Turning she saw Brittany standing close behind her, brandishing the knife menacingly.

Panicked, Santana reached up and yanked Brittany's ponytail, driving her into the wall. She turned and ran through the dining room, grabbing her cell phone off the table and locking herself in the bathroom.

"_911, what is your emergency?"_

"Help! Help me! The – the Gleeful Murderer, it's us! And now, now she's gonna, she's gonna kill me! Please -"

Santana screamed as Brittany pounded on the door.

"I'm gonna get in sooner or later, S," Brittany teased, jiggling the doorknob.

"Please help me!" Santana sobbed into the phone.

"_We are tracking your call. A police car and ambulance will be at your house in about five minutes, please just stay on the line with me -"_

The door flew open.

"I don't have five minutes!" Santana screeched into the phone.

"Knives are excellent for picking locks." Brittany said, standing in the doorway of the bathroom. With a devilish smile, she launched herself at the Latina.

Catching Brittany's wrist, Santana dropped the phone to the ground. She shoved Brittany backwards, sending her crashing into the wall and onto the floor. Brittany kicked out her legs, tripping Santana and pinning her to the floor. Santana kneed Brittany in the stomach, rolling away as the knife stabbed into the ground where her head just was. She rolled until she was straddling the blonde.

"You'll never win," Brittany laughed, "They'll never get here in time. All they'll find is a dead Santana and an innocent, dumb little blonde, crying her heart out because she couldn't save her friend from the '_Gleeful_ _Murderer'_."

She reached up and grabbed a fistful of Santana's hair, pulling her up and throwing her into the hallway, pinning her against the wall. Santana slapped Brittany with all her might and bolted down the hallway.

Brittany chased after her, tackling her and sending them both tumbling onto the stairs.

Santana kicked and scratched and clawed, her mind blank, until she felt two hands pulling her away.

Looking up, she saw Brittany being handcuffed by two police officers as she screamed and snarled. "Let me go!" She shrieked, "I didn't do anything wrong! Her! It was her!"

Santana watched as Brittany was dragged into a police car. She sank onto the front door step, an officer hovering over her worriedly.

Taking one last look at the hate-filled expression on her 'best friend's' face, she buried her head in her hands and began to sob.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Hey! Sorry I haven't updated this in a while! But at least I'm updating it now ****. I've had SOO much to do, I've been reduced to writing this only during free time at school ****but, it's getting done!**

**Oh, and since I love shamelessly promoting my other stories, please read/ review my story 'Even Angels Have Their Wicked Schemes' and 'You Are Safe In My Heart'! Both are Klaine, but not that fluffy :P**

**Speaking of Klaine…**

**AHHHHH OHMIGOSHOMIGOSHOMIGOSH THERE WAS A KLAINE KISS! AN EPIC KLAINE KISS! THANK YOU RYAN MURPHY! :D**

**Anywaysss, that ends my extremely long authors note.**

**On with the story!**

**Please read/ review!**

**Chapter 13 – Kurt**

Kurt was angry.

Kurt was terrified.

Kurt didn't know how he was feeling.

He only knew what he _knew_, and he _knew_ that pretty much the entire Glee Club, save himself and two Cheerios, were dead. Were _killed_. And he was probably next.

Kurt always thought this would be the worst way to die.

When you know it's coming. When you know you're going to be killed.

You just don't know when – or how – or _why_.

Every single thing that Kurt used to care about – his hair, his skincare routine – that was all out the window.

It's come down to preserving his life.

Who cares if people say that spending the rest of your life inside is irrational?

He'd rather be a hermit then _dead._

Getting up from his couch, Kurt grabbed his pocketknife, slowly walking to the kitchen. After debating with himself for a few seconds, he flicked on the television, flipping to channel 10 news while he poured himself a glass of water.

"Breaking news!" he heard, "The Gleeful Murderer has been captured."

Kurt froze, almost dropping his glass. "Please let this not be a joke," he thought, grabbing the remote and turning the volume up.

"As it turns out, it appears to be the Gleeful Murder_ers,_ and they were two of the people you would least expect. The tag team of Santana Lopez and Brittany Pierce, two Cheerios and members of the Glee Club, are the accused."

Kurt gasped as the news reported kept talking.

"Lopez was not taken into custody, but she has agreed to testify against Pierce and confess to everything she has done, as it was Lopez who called the police when Pierce allegedly attempted to kill her."

Kurt didn't think his mouth could open any wider.

"Pierce, after being questioned by a professional, has confessed to everything, as shown in this short clip."

Kurt watched as a white-clad Brittany appeared on screen, reclining on a plastic chair in what looked like an interrogation room, her hands handcuffed to the table.

"_Of course I did it,"_ Brittany said, _"Who else could it have been? Ballad?"_

She chuckled at the puzzled expression on the interviewer's face.

_"See, now when I say stuff like that, people think I'm stupid. A ditzy comment here, a blank expression there, throw in a sweet smile, and everybody trusts you. 'Oh, Brittany?' they say, 'The one that thinks the square root of four is rainbows? The one who says heart attacks are from loving too much? She couldn't hurt a fly!' Well, that is true. I wouldn't hurt a fly. They never did anything to me. I would, however, hurt them."_

She giggled as she recounted all of the murders.

"_Mercedes was a test run. Poison, so I didn't have to get my hands dirty. San was there for that one. Then it was Matt. I hit him with his own car. Still didn't get my hands dirty, though. Mike was next. I planned to shoot him, but I didn't."_

"_Because you felt guilty?" _the interviewer interjected.

"_No,"_ Brittany said, _"Because I knew shooting the mirror would make his death more painful." _

Brittany grinned, and then continued.

"_Next Finn. I meant to freeze him in his own bathwater, but I ended up boiling him. Finn soup! But oh well. It got the job done. Ah, Artie. I actually got to use my hands for him. Chopped his legs right off. It was really messy, though. Then Tina. She was a vampire, you know? An Asian vampire. I didn't want her to turn me into a vampire, so I stabbed her. Wooden stake. Through the heart. Who was next? Oh, Rachel! She talked a lot. Everybody should be thanking me for taking her vocal cords; do you know how quiet it got after she was gone? After Rachel was Quinnie. Mrs. Queen Bee, Mrs. Head Cheerleader. Santana screwed that up. She pushed her off the top of the bleachers, but Quinnie still lived. She knew it was us for a second. But then Santana stomped on her neck. It broke like a twig, and ta-da! Quinn-be-gone! Puck. Now Puck took a while. We froze him in slushie. I'm really surprised nobody caught us. He was there, on school grounds, for a few hours. Then our beloved Mr. Schue. He used way too much hair gel; he was bound to drown in it someday. And lastly – well, she was _supposed_ to be last – Santana. Too bad for me she got away."_

"_Why?" _The interviewer asked.

"_Why? Well, she fought back, which I wasn't expecting, so -"_

"_No, why did you do it?"_

"_Good question," _Brittany answered with a sly smile, _"I did it for my sweetbabygay. I did it for Kurt Hummel."_

**A/N: DUNDUNDUNNN! Hopefully, the next chapter will be up soon, but until then, please review! I'm like Tinkerbelle. I need reviews to live. :P**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Yes, I realize I haven't updated this story in like 3 months. Yes, I also realize this chapter is barely long enough to be called a 'chapter'. It's more like a filler chapter; I'm still working out everything else that's going to happen later on in this story. So, don't kill me! Review, pwease! It might make me update faster ;P**

**Oh, and whilke you're reading this, if you're a fan of Team Starkid, you should check out my two 'Starship' stories, and my 'Little White Lie' one. If you're not a fan of Team Starkid... Become one. Go to Starkidpotter's channel on Youtube and watch their musicals. I'll quiz you on them :P**

**Anyway, read on!**

**Chapter 14 - Kurt (again)**

Kurt gaped at the TV in shock.

Brittany had killed everybody - for _him_? And the way she said it made it sound like he was some sort of evil mastermind behind the whole thing - which he wasn't.

Kurt continued to stare blankly at the screen, replaying Brittany's interview in his head. How calm, yet excited the blonde had sounded as she recounted the murders she committed.

Kurt needed to talk to someone. He grabbed his cell phone and absentmindedly hit "2", still concentrating on Brittany's speech.

_"Hey! You've reached the fierce and fabulous Mercedes Jones! Sorry, boo, it seems like you've missed me, but-" _

Kurt hung up the phone quickly. He burst into a fresh batch of tears as he realized that, by habit, he had dialed the number of his dead best friend to tell her who murdered her.

He sank to the floor, wrapping his arms around his legs and resting his head on his knees, not caring about getting stains on his new designer jeans. Tears flowed out of his eyes as he sobbed silently.

He heard a knock on the door.

Gasping for air, he stood and slowly began to walk to the front of the house.

He glanced at himself in the mirror in the hallway, pausing for a moment to take in how different he looked. His usually perfectly-quaffed hair was a mess, his normally round baby face looking sunken and shallow. His eyes were large and red, ringed with dark circles due to a lack of sleep. His skin was pale, as were his lips, which were drained of their naturally hot pink color.

Wiping his nose on his sleeve, Kurt opened the door.

A police officer stood solemnly there. "Is this the Hummel residence?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," Kurt answered, his voice no more than a whisper, "How can I help you?"

"My name is Officer Matthews. I have a warrant for the arrest of Kurt Hummel."


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Wow, I'm uploading again? And it hasn't been three months? I'm making progress! XD**

**Now, before anyone jumps down my throat about how Diva-y Kurt is acting in this chapter, as opposed to how heart broken he was in the last one, here's my train of thought: Kurt is very upset about the deaths of his friends, but he also doesn't like showing 'weakness' in public, which is why he was only crying when he was in his home. Once someone gets up in his face about how he 'killed' his friends, however, well, the Diva act is pulled out, and he gets back to the sarcastic, quick-witted Kurt that we all love. :)**

**And now, ON WITH THE STORY!**

**Chapter 15 - Kurt (for the third time)**

Kurt fidgeted in his chair.

Repeatedly crossing and uncrossing his legs, he glanced around the room. Officer Matthews had taken him to the local sheriff's office, and he was currently in an interrogation room.

The room was empty, save two chairs and a large, grey metal table. Both the table and the chairs were nailed to the floor. A small, barred window let in a sliver of sunlight from its place near the ceiling.

Kurt closed his eyes and breathed deeply as he waited for Officer Matthews to come back. After a few minutes, the policeman reentered, carrying a small manila folder.

"Kurt Hummel," he said, sitting down in the chair across the table from Kurt, "Born in Lima Memorial to Burt Hummel, co-owner of Hummel Tire and Lube, and Elizabeth Hummel, deceased."

At the word 'deceased', Kurt flinched, but remained silent.

"You have a relatively small record, just one count of petty theft when you were -" Officer Matthews flipped through some papers, "Seven?"

"I'm sorry! I was young, and I really wanted that tiara, and I gave it back, and I apologized, and-"

"Shut up, kid," the officer cut off Kurt's rambling apology with a flick of his hand.

Biting back a particularly snarky comment about how kids are goats and he is not, Kurt sat back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap.

Officer Matthews put the folder down on the table. "Look, kid. Stealing a tiara when you were seven is nothing. But what you're being accused of right now? It can get you into some serious trouble."

"I didn't do anything, I swear! I have no clue what Brittany was talking about! I-"

"Kid," Officer Matthews leaned forward on the table, lowering his voice slightly, "Look, we can do this the hard way or the easy way. If you did have any part in these murders, just tell me now. Maybe I'd be able to help lighten your sentence. But if you want to lie, and you're found guilty, the least you'll get is 50 years."

"I didn't have anything to do with any of this!" Kurt hissed, "Trying to bribe me into confessing anything is a severe waste of your time, Mr. Matthews, because _I_ _am_ _innocent_. Now, can I please go free? All this stress is making me break out."

Suddenly, Officer Matthews slammed his fist on the table, creating a loud bang and causing Kurt to jump slightly. "Listen, you little fairy," he spat, "People are dead. Your classmates are dead, and you are to blame. _Tell_ _me_ _what_ _you_ _know_."

Kurt's eyes blazed. He stood up, ready to answer with some nasty comments of his home, when the door swung open.

"Hold on here," Burt Hummel said as he marched into the room, "Why the heck is my son in here? Didn't you know, -" Burt checked the name on the policeman's badge, "-Officer Matthews, that minors should not be questioned without the presence of a lawyer or a guardian? Or did you not learn that at your three days of Police Academy?"

Officer Matthews sputtered over an answer.

"If you don't mind," Burt continued, "I will be taking my son, and we will be going home. When you have a legitimate excuse to arrest him, other than the word of a criminally insane teenager, you can come and get him. But until then, Kurt, we're leaving."

Kurt exhaled heavily, shooting his father a small, grateful smile. Getting up to follow Burt, he turned to look back at the flustered policeman. "Adieu for now," Kurt said, curtsying deeply, before half-running after his father.

The Hummels walked down the hallway in silence, before Kurt cleared his throat. "Dad?" he said, "Thanks."

"Welcome." Burt said gruffly.

Kurt studied his father briefly. "You believe me, don't you?" he said softly.

Burt stopped. He sighed, and then turned to face his son. "I believe that the son I know would never play a part in the murders of his friends. I believe that... That I don't know what Brittany meant when she said your name, but I believe that you don't either. I trust you, son."

Kurt's face scrunched. He bit back a sob. Stepping forward, he threw his arms around his father. "Thank you, Dad." he said, his voice choked up.

"Kurt Hummel?" a voice called from down the hallway.

The father-son hug was broken apart as a police officer ran frantically toward them.

"Kurt Hummel," he gasped once he reached them, "Kurt Hummel, we need you right now."

Burt stepped between Kurt and the officer. "Why do you need my son?"

"It's Brittany. She heard he was here, and, well, she demanded to talk to you. When we refused to let her, she punched one of her guards and started to throw a fit. We can't get her to stop; we had to handcuff her to a chair, but she still might manage to hurt herself or somebody else. Please come talk to her?"

Kurt hesitated. He looked into his father's worried eyes, and then the officers pleading ones.

"I'll go."


End file.
